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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27066928">Beauty and The Fool</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/okemmelie/pseuds/okemmelie'>okemmelie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Fae &amp; Fairies, fae rules but from a dnd perspective because that's what i have most context for, starkid writes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:27:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27066928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/okemmelie/pseuds/okemmelie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ted is desperate and Charlotte has what he needs</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Beauty and The Fool</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this was originally going to be a long fic with ted as a dnd adventurer (half-elven warlock) and charlotte as his fae patron, but instead i offer you the scene of their first meeting. posted for starkid writes' theme of the week, "fae"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Finding his footing in the lush undergrowth of the forest is a lot harder than he thought it would be. At least he isn’t running anymore. He stopped running a few hours ago, after the sounds of dogs barking and people shouting died out behind him. He kept going, of course. There’s nothing to go back to. Well, except maybe a quick death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He isn’t interested in dying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moonlight just barely makes its way through the tree crowns above him but the moss gives off light on its own, the cool greens and blues not helping the forest seem less scary to him but at least it allows him to keep going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t his fault. It really wasn’t. Lady Nora could have just decided not to sleep with him or at least she could have given him a heads up that her husband was going to be home earlier than normal. She didn’t, of course, and now he was running through this fucking forest. Felinity Forest, named after the fuckton of cats that come wandering out of it. The people of his town always said it was endless. He hopes now, more than ever, that that’s not true. He’d always thought the name to be silly, stupid even, but at this point he’s lost count of how many cats he’s seen in here so maybe he can forgive it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His legs feel heavy. They’re about to give out. He knows they are. But there’s a clearing off in the distance, one he can just barely make out. So he tells himself that he has to make it there. He has to keep going. And so, he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no moss in the clearing, at least not the luminescent kind. But there’s a small pond and a nice circle of mushrooms that he’s careful to step over, not break. He knows it’s just a myth, just legend, but he’s exhausted so he decides it’s better to be careful and slightly sorry than not be careful and then be very sorry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes his way over to the pond and lets his tired, aching body fall to the ground next to it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is a nice spot to die</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks to himself right before realizing that he doesn’t want to die. That’s why he’s here. Because he doesn’t want to die. He passes out instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he wakes up, a small pile of fallen leaves have made their way onto his body. It’s peculiar how they made their way there, how they stayed there, but Ted is thankful no matter what the explanation for it might be. It’s fall and the nights get cold; just a little bit of coverage and warmth goes a long way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body still feels quite weak, but he does manage to make his way right to the edge of the pond. Looking down into it, he notices something strange, something not quite right. There’s something wrong with his reflection; instead of his usual broken self, he sees a beautiful woman with auburn hair and captivating eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman lifts her hand and brings it right to the surface of the water; Ted finds himself doing the same thing. It’s not the thing in his reflection that breaks the surface first. Ted does that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s strange, really. One second, he’s in his own world (the real one, he presumes, but humans do tend to believe themselves to be at the center of everything) and the next, he’s somewhere completely different. Everything is tinted slightly pink and he sits face to face with the woman, their hands touching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome,” she says, a warm smile resting on her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted doesn’t trust it, not entirely, not at all. He’s pretty sure things like these are not supposed to happen, that reflections aren’t supposed to move on their own and that ponds aren’t supposed to take </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>anywhere rose-colored. “Thanks for having me, I suppose.” Come to think of it, he’s not even sure he can call whoever, </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever,</span>
  </em>
  <span> this thing is a she. He’ll have to ask when the time is right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I have your name?” The thing asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m not foolish enough to give you my name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It laughs. “Not foolish enough to give me your name and yet foolish enough to wander into my circle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs. “Desperate and foolish are not the same thing. But I’m sure you know all about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It smiles again, less warm this time but not entirely sinister. “My name’s Charlotte. What may I call you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ted.” He glances around quickly before returning his gaze to the thing. Their hands are still touch and there’s an air of curiosity between them. “What are you? A woman? Something else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something else,” it says. “But ‘woman’ is close enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods. “Fair enough. Woman it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look awfully hungry, Ted. And my table’s full. Can I tempt you with some warm meat and some sweet drinks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it be foolish of me to accept?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite. But are you going to let that stop you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t take long for Ted to reach a conclusion. Charlotte is beautiful and he is desperate. It might spell certain doom, but he always thought he was going to die young anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He accepts her invitation and the two of them head off to a lovely morning meal. If he dies, he dies; he’s willing to be a fool and die for or in the hands of a beautiful woman. How bad could it really be?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much for reading! if you want something written, feel free to leave a request here or on tumblr @krayonders</p></blockquote></div></div>
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